


some kind of wonderful

by aliaaaaaa



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Softness and Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 08:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: newton scamander-graves muses about being married to percival graves.





	some kind of wonderful

**Author's Note:**

> my first foray into writing this pairing and I have a lot of feels when it comes to them so here is my humble offering to the fandom.
> 
> this has been proof-read by [Kennedy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/readwriteandavengers/pseuds/readwriteandavengers)! all mistakes are mine!

When the news of Percival Graves marrying Newton Scamander reaches both wizarding communities in America and England, tongues are wagging about how mismatched they are for each other.

 

The high class American wizarding society thinks that the younger Scamander is too wild and too reckless for someone as stoic and as noble as Percival Graves.

 

_“Honestly! I heard that Scamander boy is too awkward and too unkempt from working with savage animals that he doesn’t know how to mingle with humans anymore! I don’t see how he could ever mix with us!”_

 

There are whispers across the pond too of course, saying that Newton is too young and too innocent to be wedded to someone so much older. They believe that the Scamander’s family has financial trouble that Theseus is willing to sell his brother to a brute American in exchange for an embarrassingly large amount of money.

 

_“Surely Mr. Graves won’t allow Newton to travel around the world anymore! He’s a Graves now! One of the oldest wizard families in America! The Original Twelve! He has to act proper and not running around chasing savage beasts!”_

 

Still.

 

Despite the vicious gossip and false rumours, Percival and Newt are married in Hampshire, on the Scamander’s large estate with the Hippogriffs treading the ground freely as Percival and Newt exchange their rings and vows under the chestnut tree.

 

Later Theseus will deny it vehemently, citing that there’s something in his eyes, but Newt sees how he blinks repeatedly as if to stop the tears when Newt leans in to kiss his husband sweetly.

 

_His husband._

 

A concept that is still foreign to him even when he’s burrowing closer to the warmth provided by the man sleeping next to him.

 

He is married now and he has a husband.

 

A husband that he promises to cherish and love in sickness and in health; even when they are facing difficulties, he vows to always be loyal and to always take care of Percival.

 

“I’m married.”

 

He whispers to the room, hearing his voice sounding too loud in the quietness of the early morning. Watching the steady rise and fall of Percival’s chest as he sleeps on unaware of the other man’s musing.

 

Newt shifts to study his husband, raising his fingers to gently trace Percival’s jawlines. Feeling short stubbles prickling on his fingertips. He smiles when Percival snuffles in his sleep as he glides his fingers softly on Percival’s mouth, remembering how those lips had kissed him with such tenderness, had spoke filthy promises that made him whimper and moan as Percival pounded into him hard.

 

The light from the orb glowing at the corner of the room shines on the ring on his finger, casting a golden shadow on Percival’s handsome face when he continues to caress his way up to the salt and pepper hair. Mused up from sleep and devoid of pomade and so soft between his fingers.

 

_“A husband."_

 

He thinks again.

 

With a fond smile this time when Percival unconsciously nuzzles his wrist, a contented sound being pulled from his throat.

 

He is married to his husband who prefers coffee to tea. A husband who is an Auror, who leads his life according to the laws set by his government. A husband who works hard to protect the city and the people, putting his safety at the lowest tier. A husband who grumbles quietly as he reads his Aurors’ reports and corrects them every night before bed. A husband who is stoic and just.

 

A husband who sets the reports down and follows him into the suitcase to help him feed the creatures. A husband who has soft spot for the Niffler, much to his chagrin. A husband who lets the baby Occamy wind around his arm and coos at it when it chirps happily. A husband who is kind to the creatures even the dangerous ones, treating them with respect. A husband who sets aside the rigid laws just for him in order to make sure the creatures are safe in his care.

 

A husband who looks at him with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes. A husband who looks at him like he is some kind of wonderful even when he is talking about the creatures. _Especially_ when he talks about the creatures. A husband who is both soft and gruff with him. Only for him.

 

A husband who accepts his quirks and flaws as part of him, who doesn’t ask him to stop traveling the world to rescue and rehabilitate and release creatures back into the wilderness. Who doesn’t ask him to be less reckless because he knows Newt can take care of himself. A husband who doesn’t try to change him or fix him just because he doesn’t conform to what the society dictate.

 

A husband who is in the midst of waking up by the sound of his loud exhale and the slight grumbling when he tugs on the salt and pepper hair.

 

“Hullo.”

 

Percival blinks his eyes, closes them again when the orb feels too bright and Newton waves his hand to dim the light.

 

“What time is it?” Percival asks, a puff of hot breath skimming against Newt’s wrist.

 

“Just after four, love,” Newt answers, fingers still combing Percival’s hair, his blunt nails raking soothingly against the scalp. “Go back to sleep.”

 

Percival shifts on his back and pulls Newt closer until they are face to face, letting out a satisfied hum when Newt readily rests his head on his chest.

 

“Why are you awake?” Percival asks, wrapping his arm around Newt’s lithe back, fingers caressing the scarred skin gently.

 

“You snore,” Newt replies cheekily.

 

“I don’t snore.”

 

“Yes, well. People who are asleep usually cannot hear their own snoring.”

 

“I’ll have you know, I have never snored before and if I did then it’s all your fault for being the insatiable nymph, wanting me to split you open on my cock again and again.”

 

Newt blushes, his quick fingers pinching the taut muscles of Percival’s tummy making the older man yelp in pain.

 

“I am not an insatiable nymph.”

 

“Newt, you pulled a muscle when I bent your legs over my shoulders _and_  you were begging for more even when I said we should st---”

 

Whatever words that Percival want to say next are lost in mortifying giggles when he feels Newt’s fingers tickling his side. He tries to shift away and push Newt off of him but Newt drapes his lithe frame on top of Percival’s body easily, successfully crowding him into the mattress with nowhere to go.

 

“Newt! Stop!” Percival pleads in between giggles, squirming his body side to side in an attempt to escape.

 

“Say that I’m not an insatiable nymph first!”

 

“Never!”

 

Newt drags his fingers harder on Percival’s side, digging his fingers on the hard flesh, magic sparking along the skin to amplify tickling sensation.

 

“Do you yield, fiend?”

 

“Alright! You’re not an insatiable nymph!” Percival concedes in the end, tears running down his face as he takes a big gulp of air; the tickling sensation is now just a quiet whisper on his skin as it eventually dissolve into a spark.

 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

 

Percival answers by flipping Newt into the mattress, a breathy laughter tickling his mouth when Newt meets him in the middle for a kiss.

 

“That was a dirty trick to play on your husband,” Percival says, voice low that makes Newt tilts his head to the side, a warm feeling rushing in his chest when he hears the word _husband_ from Percival’s mouth.

 

“Hmm. We both know you could stop me with just a wave of your hand,” Newt answers languidly, opening his long legs for Percival to rest in between them.

 

“But I didn’t.”

 

Newt smiles softly, pulling Percival closer to him by his neck. “But you didn’t.”

 

And there’s that smile on Percival’s face that Newt loves the most. The soft, fond smile that he suspects Percival reserves just for him. The kind that lights up his soft brown eyes with love. The kind that anchors him to the ground instead of drowning him.

 

The one that made him fall for Percival in the first place years ago.

 

“You’re my husband,” Newt whispers softly, reverently as if he’s afraid that this is all just an elaborate daydreaming, that in a few second he will wake up to Pickett scolding him, demanding for his attention and his heart will surely ache with such painful yearning.

 

But he knows that this is not a dream because Percival takes his hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, his mouth feels warm on his sun-kissed skin when he murmurs a gentle “Yes, I am.”

 

And when Percival looks at him with soft eyes, Newt could feel Percival’s warm magic shimmering around him, engulfing him wholly. Protecting him, loving him.

 

“And you’re my husband, Newton Scamander-Graves,” Percival continues, his big hand wrapping around his husband’s, fingers intertwining firmly. “As menace as you are, nothing can change the fact that we are bound to each other. That despite what everyone says, _you are_ perfect for me.”

 

Just like that, with their fingers clasped together, Percival has successfully dispelled the lingering doubt that tries to fester in his mind.

 

Newt closes his eyes and lets Percival’s magic calms him down. Of course they both heard the rumours and the gossip. The wizarding communities in America and England are small after all and though Percival is not a stranger to this kind of thing, Newt is understandably flustered. Especially when he knows that he doesn’t have much to offer to Percival.

 

Yet, here is Percival in his arms, soothing his worries away with soft words and tender kisses. Yet, here they are, with love in their hearts and fondness in their eyes. Their imperfections and flaws complementing one another, slotting perfectly with each other.

 

And that’s all that matters.

 

They are all that matter.

 

Everything else can burn away.

  


**Author's Note:**

> if you have reached this point, thank you so much for reading! kudos and comment are really much appreciated! 
> 
> find me on [auroargraves](http://auroargraves.tumblr.com/).


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